Page 39 of A Steadfast Heart
He must be a cad for noticing how right she felt in his arms while she was so distressed. But how could he ignore her floral scent, the soft fabric of her dress under his hand, her tiny frame that still somehow filled his arms?
“I’m s-sorry.”
The quiver in her voice arrowed its way into his heart.
“Shhh. It’s okay. I won’t melt.” Though each of her tears felt like a brand. He rested his chin on the top of her head. Her warmth soaked into him. He continued rubbing his hand up and down her back.
When was the last time he’d held a woman in his arms? Amanda had turned her nose up at his honest calluses. Kaitlyn wouldn’t be able to feel them through the calico she wore, but she hadn’t moved away from him when he’d touched her cheek.
She slipped one arm around his waist, then the other. He drew a deeper breath than he had been able to moments before. She wouldn’t do that if he’d made things worse. He felt taller somehow. She’d turned to him as an anchor while the storm raged through her, and he’d offered her a place of security.
Eventually, her sobs quieted, but she didn’t move away for some minutes after. He rubbed his cheek against the top of her head, her hair as soft as a newborn kitten. His eyes slid shut for a moment as he memorized the sensation. Then he pulled back.
“I got your shirt wet,” she mumbled into his chest.
He dropped his arms from around her. “I reckon you did. You want to tell me what this was all about?”
He thought her arms dropped from his waist slowly, but that might be wishful thinking. She stepped back, glanced around the room, moved the dresses piled on Jo’s bed, then took a seat there. Should he sit beside her? No, he’d draw up the chair. He put it across from her. She’d responded to his hand on her back. He reached over and took her hand. It felt so tiny in his grasp, but she didn’t pull away, didn’t object to the work-roughened texture.
“I don’t like closed spaces.”
Her tears had made that plenty clear. He’d meant to question how she’d gotten into this closet today, but if she wanted to build up to it, he’d go along.
“It all goes back to Michael. Always.”
“Your brother?”
“Yes. He locked me in places many times, but it didn’t usually scare me. At least not much. Not like…” She gestured toward the closet. “I knew Father would find me before long.”
His skin crawled as tiny hairs shot to attention. How many wasmany? Ten times? A hundred? How long before her father found her? Minutes? Hours?
She remained quiet for a few moments. He ran his thumb across the back of her hand. She worked hard, but her skin felt so soft.
“Then my father died. I went to boarding school for a while, but Michael was old enough to be my guardian when I turned sixteen.”
Ice flowed through his veins. Sixteen. A vulnerable age.
“My brother’s friend stayed around the house a lot that summer.” She shuddered. “I didn’t like him. His eyes followed my every move, and his reputation was questionable. I tried to tell Michael, but he didn’t care.”
A growl built in Drew’s chest, but he suppressed it. She might think it aimed at her instead of her worthless brother. What good was a man who didn’t protect his family?
Soothing voice, he chanted to himself. “What happened next?”
“One day Brian found me alone.”
She ran her hand along her wrist.
“He was so strong. I couldn’t get away.”
His pulse pounded in his ears. Had the man…He shook his head, forced his rage to a back corner of his mind. He’d release it later. Every fence post he pounded would wear the man’s face. Kaitlyn needed gentle now. He tightened his grip on her hands, just enough to let her know he’d heard her.
Her unfocused gaze sharpened, flew to his face. Her cheeks flushed. “He only kissed me. That’s all, I promise. You’d want to know…I mean, I’m your wife. You’d have the right to know?—”
“Shhh.” He dropped her hand and moved to sit beside her. Put his arm around her, drew her into his shoulder. She fit so well against him. “I’m glad you got away, but for your sake, not mine.” He ran his hand along her arm. Touch seemed to comfort her. “How’d you do it?”
She made a sound too close to a sob for his comfort. “I locked myself in that time. But Brian didn’t tell my brother where I was, or maybe Michael didn’t care. I was in that closet for hours, wondering if anyone would ever find me, afraid it would be Brian who did.”
Drew’s eyes slid shut. Rage burned in his gut. He wasn’t a violent man, but if either of those men had been here now, he’d gladly make an exception. He took a deep breath, let it out slowly. “Who found you?”
